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Friend. What a Grin! like a wooden Cut of Scoggan be.. fore a Jest-Book.

Cler. Oh Brute! go to the Lady, for Shame.

Friend. Madam, you know my Forbearance was only a Mark of my Refpect.

[Going towards her.. Stale. Ah! you Men! -:--well, I say no more

TC----why would you put me in this Chafe!---you know how it is with me always I warrant you my poor Head will suffer for this Two Days -- feel how it burns

Mar. Was there ever such a nauseous Five and Fifty Fondling! but how do I know but Age and Fol. ly may make me such a monster?

Cler. Never, 'tis impossible.
Mar. How, Clerimost! Mall I nevci grow Old?'.

Cler. Certainly if you live but surely the Wit and Tenderness of my Mariana can never degenerate to the Folly and Fondness of such an Ideo: To me, you must be always as you are, thus dear, thus agreeable, the con ftant Object of my Love.

Mar. Oh, fie, fie! a marry'd Man and talk of Love! te his own wife too! - They'll hear you, and laugh at us in their turn, if you han't a care,

Stale. But do you say you'll put me out of my Pain by to-morrow morning?' 'Tis extreamly kind.

Friend. I have given you my Word, and you may depend upon it.

Stale. The Expedition of your Performance will make amends for every thing- - tis excessively kind.

Friend. Husht! not a Word more Mariana and Clerimont will find Matter of Mirth out of it, and turn our Happiness into Ridicule.

Mar. See here's sweet Mr. Pinch again, as gay as if this Mishap had never befallen him, and there were no such wicked Instrument as a Cudgel in Nature.

Enter Pinch and Scribblescrabble. Pinch. Madam, your most humble Servant. A scurvy kind of a foolish Buliness happen'd to happen just now here a little odly, Madam, but no great matter, Madam, 'tis all over now.


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Mar. I am very glad to see you look so well after it--I'll swear I'think you're improv'd that Patch has given a must agreeable turn to his Face Your Opinion, Gen'l men.

Cler. The Patch does its Part, upon my Word little o'th' biggest, or so — but elfe wonderfully well.

Friend. And are you as found within as without, Sir ? -
Pinch. Oh to all intents and Purposes.
Friend. And d’ye think you could bite as well as ever ?

Pinch. Ask my little Scribblescrabble else -Didn't. I bite

your Coulin, as she was dresfing my Head? Scrib. None of my cousin, Squire.

Pincb. Nay, nay, she cali'd you Coufin; a fat comely Gentlewoman hard by here at the Sign of the Adam and Eve, that sells Sawsages and Black-puddings.

Scrib, She's none of my cousin, The's only my Doll's Cousin. Pinch. Why the Woman's a good Woman Whats alham'd of


Scrib. She's none of my Cousin.

Mar, Ridiculous, we shall have 'em quarrel presently.
Cler. Come, come, no matter whose Coulin the is.
Friend. You bit her, you say.

Pinch. Bit her! ay marry did I and fo I shou'd have fervd. all her Family, and all her Generation, if they had been here What, han't I been at Moscow, Ijapban, Babylon, and so forth? Knock him down! Scr ib. What did he say she was my Cousin for?

[Grumbling. Mar. To set aside this foolish Difpute, pray fhew me the biting Song, wbich you said was set to Mufick.

Pinch. Here it is, and it is in the Nature of a Dialogue, and if your Lady ship will do me: the Honour to bear a Bob with me, as I may fo say, we'll perform it before all

Mar.. To oblige you, Sir, I'll do my best,

are you

the Company:


A Dialogue.

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Thyrfis. RIS, I have long, in vain,


Been your Slave, and wore your Clog;
'Tis but just I shou'd complain,

Since you use me like a Dog:
Iris. Faithful Lovers are but feno;

Cou'd I trust, I wou'd trust you :-
Of all your Sex I am afraid,

And therefore vow to die a Maid.
Thyrfis. Die a Maid! So young, so pretty!

I'll be true, by all that's good:

Die a Maid ! I'll fwear 'tis pity.
Iris. Bite! Thyrsis, did you think I wou'd ??

But since you will be mine alone,

Here kiss the Book and swear :

The Wedding Ring shall make us one.
Thyrsis. Bite! Iris, now I think all's fair,

Chorus. Bite! Thyrfis, now I think all's fair,

And well we may agree,
Since thus we love upon the Square,

And Biters both are wa

Cler. Rarely perform'd, upon my Word------- Mr. Pinch has his Gifts...--what say you, Mr. Scribblefcrabble?

Scrib. Mighty, well indeed, Sir------the Squire is a fine Gentleman, that's the truth on't----but let him be never so well vers'a in the Arts and Sciences, he ought not to refecl upon the Family of the Scrbblescrabbles,


Cler. Oh no more of thata....

Scrib. What if I did marry Mrs. Dorothy Pattypan, the Pastry-Cook's Daughter, I didn't marry all her Scoundrel Consanguinity, I hope; no, I disclaim 'em, I make her and them to know themselves, I keep 'em under, lcc...

Enter Bandileer drunk, and Mrs. Scribblescrabble. Mrs. Scrib. Nay, dear Cousin Barnaby, where wou'd you haul one-------1'll fwear I have eat so much Goose, and drank so much Sack, that I am almost in a Quandary -Hiccup -good lack! how I have got the Hiccocks; well, I won't drink a drop more, profess now.

Band. Look ye, take no care of that, I'll carry you to a Friend of mine, d’ye see, and there we'll have a Cup of rare Juniper, cure your Hiccup, I warrant youNothing but a cold Stomach, Coufin.

Stale. In the Name of Astonishment, what may these be, Child?

Mar. Ha! as I live, Mrs. Dorothy Scribbleferabble in her own proper Person.

Stale. What, not our little Man of Law's Confort ?

Mar. The very felf-fame, as I'm virtuous She's half boosie too -oh ruful!

Band. Dear Coufin, let me buss you I love you mightily

[Kisses her. Mrs. Scrib. Oh gemini! Hiccup - What makes you

so rude -Hiccup----don't ye see all the Gentry here----for Shame---- Hiccup---- If our little Simon fhou'd hear of this now----Hiccup---Scrib. Ha! how! mercy upon me! what's this I see!

[Turning about, and seeing his Wife. Mar. Now for the Denoäement of the Piece.

Mrs. Scrib. Ob law !... I am ruinated and undone-on there s my own Husband.

Scrib. Is your Name Dorothy ? ha! Apfwer me that, Mrs. Scrib. Yes

Hiccup. Scrib.hat is the reason that you set at nought my Superiorit, and Authority, and d-de-dare to come hither without my leave? Anfwer me quickly. Come! what faj-haz

Mrs. Scrib.

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Mrs. Scrib. Nay, dear Simmy, don't be angry. I only Came to -Hiccup -bear


Cousin Bandileer Com. Pany

Iwou'dn't, for all the Varsal World, have come, Hiccup but that you know I love Sack

-Hiccup and Walnuts mightily

Scrib. Cuc-cu-Cousin me no Coulins who am I?
Answer me that quickly -who am I? ha!

Band. Look ye, I'll stand by my Cousin. She's my own Cousin, tho' I am but a private Gentleman Soldier, whereof what


that -my Name's Barnaby Bandileer. Mrs. Scrib. Well, well

, I know who you are well e-. nough, you are my Hony-Hiccupbut 'tis very hard if one must not Hiccup -or go a little abroad with a Hiccup- Relation, or so Hiccup..

Scrib. Go! you're a Quean.

Mar. Oh fie, Mr. Scribbscrabble! what! this to the Wife of your

Bosom! Scrib. You're a Carrion! I'm engag'd! and Chastisement will ensue.

Stale. How you little Brutal you. -My Dear, my Dear,

[TO Mariana. for the Honour of the Sex let us never suffer the poor. Woman to be insulted before our Faces -Sure any Two of our Gender are fufficient, or of the Quorum, as they fay, to keep a Husband in Order.

Mrs. Scrib. Ab dear Ladies, 'tis your Hiccup
Goodness - but 'eis an unknown thing, the Life that I

lead with him every Day.
Mar. Look ye if the doesn't weep, poor tender-hearted
Creature! Come, for my fake, you must not make a
Quarrel of it

What? 'twas but an innocent Fro. kick.

Scrib. Ha! I don't love Frolicks
Mrs. Scrib. Simmy, dear Simmy, don't tofs and fing, and

and ding up and down som you'll break my Heart

HiccupScrib. Go thou fe-fe-fe-fe-fe-falle Dorothy-Elope, be gone-go to your Gallant, go


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